Tell Me What's Wrong
by Dave the Wordsmith
Summary: On the outside, Huey and Jazmine represent the epitome of a perfect, healthy relationship. Behind closed doors, nothing could be further from the truth. *Entry in Secrets4theunderground's New Challenge.*
1. November 10th, 20XX

**Tell Me What's Wrong  
**

By** DaveTheWordsmith**

**Disclaimer: **Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

* * *

**Chapter One: November 10th, 20XX**

The retired domestic terrorist terminated his cell phone call and shoved the mobile phone into his pocket. He didn't want to make the previous call to cancel his time with his guest. He groaned as he stared at the numerous books of black history in the middle of the table, ready to be read out loud to his "little brother". However, he promised years ago, albeit cajoled into it, that he would protect his significant other no matter the circumstances. A child's cough brought the young man out of his reverie. He looked across the large wooden table at the young black boy who gazed naively into his eyes. The rest of the students in the library kept to themselves, busy with their schoolwork. Huey looked back at the kid he called his "little brother". His brain could not create a truthful excuse for his sudden departure. He couldn't start the first day of the Big Brothers program with a lie, but he couldn't expose his "little brother" to the horrible truth he received from the phone call.

"What's up?" the boy asked.

An uncomfortable moment of silence passed before he spoke. "I have to go, Akil," he said. After a beat and a sigh, he continued. "My granddad needs me. He's very sick."

Instead of an assumed reaction of disgust, the boy nodded with a neutral face. "It's cool, big bruh. We can always chill next week."

Huey's lips formed a small fraction of a smile. "No doubt. Little bruh."

The boy shook his head, his dreadlocks flopping up and back down on his shoulders. He grinned. "Thanks, Huey."

The two stood up and participated in a quick fist bump and half hug, one Huey used to do with his younger brother Riley before they moved to Woodcrest with Granddad. The same one Huey gave to Granddad a day before he passed away. The same Granddad he lied to his "little brother" about.

Huey tossed his books into his black backpack. His red, black and green striped wristband swiveled around his wrist as he put on his backpack on one shoulder. He nodded at the boy before he departed the classroom of Ed Wuncler Sr. High School.

The sun started to set on the trip back to the other side of Woodcrest. The trip usually took less than fifteen minutes. To Huey, it felt like forever. He parked his black Dodge Challenger in the driveway of the spacious house. Without turning off the car, he ran out the car and through the wide open front door of his best friend's home. His feet grew heavier with each step up the stairs and down the hall to the right. At the end, Huey burst into the bedroom to his left. He spotted a trembling petite teenage girl laid out on the bed.

_Cindy told the truth,_ he thought.

Huey raced in the room and approached the girl's side. Lifting her up under her arms, he heard her moan in what he guessed was a form of passive defiance. The sudden damp spots he felt on his fatigue pants, he assumed to be sweat. He couldn't look at that right now. He had more important things to worry about.

Huey threw his arms around the young woman. He figured her head bobbed unconsciously into his shoulder, the way it fell into his flesh with such an unneeded and uncontrolled force. He tilted her head back, guided his ear to her mouth. An air of relief came over his heart. The soft, airy inhale she gave made Huey release a large sigh.

She murmured into the lapel of his green army jacket, "Huey…" she said. She paused. "Huey…"

Huey grabbed her head, his hands buried in her large, red orange bundles of curly hair. With a firm yet careful touch, he pulled away to look in her semi-closed eyes. "Stay awake. I'm taking you to the hospital."

She gasped. Her green eyes enlarged and completely open, she reached for Huey's hands and threw them down in his lap. "No!"

Huey took hold of her head once again. He aimed her face toward his own, her eyes moving around as if they had a mind of their own. "Jazmine, this is no time for playing around-"

A tinge of moisture on his leg made him shut his mouth. He looked down at his pant legs. His jaw dropped a little upon his discovery. Small, crimson stains littered throughout the various shades of green. His eyes wandered up to the eighteen year old girl's bright wheat colored arm. Two long, deep gashes ran up and down the underside of her arm. He seized her other arm, twisted it around. The same thing, he thought. He drew in large amounts of air, his breath leaving him from the sight of the wounds inflicted on her body.

Jazmine brought a blood stained hand to her cheek. She sighed, looking down. "He's right. I am retarded."

Huey kept his voice low, although he wished he could yell his frustrations at her. "For the last time, you're not."

Huey took Jazmine into the bathroom attached to her bedroom to wash her arms with warm water. While he let Jazmine's arms rest in the sink, he thought of the next steps necessary to treat her wounds.

_Too many soaps and girly trinkets_, he complained as he threw cupboard doors and drawers open in his search for bandages. Moments later he found some gauze, butterfly bandages and polysporin. It took a few minutes to apply enough pressure on the bandages and gauze on her arms to effectively keep the wounds closed. As he helped Jazmine walk back into her bedroom to put on her pink Keds shoes splattered with blood, he stared at the other bruises and scars on what was once a flawless, beautiful face. The emotions that wanted to burst forth, he held back. He couldn't bring it up in her current condition.

Jazmine stopped and faced Huey. She sniffed. "If I wasn't retarded, I wouldn't be cut up and-"

Huey placed a finger on her lips. "Quiet. Save your strength."

She nodded in response. He turned and backed up into Jazmine, hands rested under her thighs. "Get on."

Bent over, he allowed her to climb up his back and wrap her arms around his neck. Her cries that would melt the stern expression off his face on any other day would not work this time.

He could hear her whimpers, her face brushing against his large afro. A few tears dropped on the back of his neck. "I don't want to go."

Huey grunted. "We're going. Resistance is futile."

He stood up with Jazmine on his back. He exited the bedroom. After he locked the front door, he made it to his Dodge Challenger, its engine still running. Its twin red and green stripes down the center of its black exterior made it stick out in the middle of the darkness.

Her breathing short, but rapid, she said into his ear, "Wait, where's Zora?"

A sharp jolt rocked Huey's heart. He squeezed Jazmine's hand after he left her off his back. "Cindy's watching her."

She sighed in what Huey felt was a release of worry. She then sputtered a few nervous giggles. "I love you, Cindy…"

He opened the passenger door for Jazmine and guided her with caution into the seat. Her body continued to tremble after he let go. After he shut the door, he nodded. "I'll pay for the visit. From now on, you're staying with me."

Jazmine looked at Huey. Her face crumpled up, hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. After he got in the driver's seat, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead. He discovered his show of affection always lifted her spirits. He blinked, aware of how his body unconsciously started the car and sent him down the road to his destination.

Her voice remained weak and scratchy. "I don't know how I can repay you."

Huey shrugged, looking at Jazmine. "Don't worry about it."

He observed Jazmine's face shrink; become less sullen and depressed. Her cheeks started to glow a bright red.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Streetlights lined up and down the dark, busy street, the sun now completely out of sight, hidden below the horizon. Huey pulled the car into the driveway to the hospital. He looked over at Jazmine who lay on her side. Eyes closed, she mumbled a few words before she threw a few limp hands in the air, entrapped in her dream. He shook his head, his mind now on finding a close parking spot in the giant parking lot, the majority of the spaces occupied by other patients.

A few minutes passed before he squeezed the Challenger between a black Escalade and a blue Ford F-150. He stepped out of the car and ran around it to open Jazmine's door.

Jazmine's head turned toward the young man. "We're…here?"

He took her hand and helped her stand, half a foot shorter than her significant other. He wrapped her arm around his neck. Her mumbled words caused him to open his mouth. His words sliced through the eerie vibe that filled the air. "C'mon. Let's go."

They began their journey out of the parking lot and followed the pedestrian crosswalk to the hospital. The whole way, Huey showed no emotion. This wasn't the first time he had to do this. It was like Groundhogs Day, only this same situation occurred maybe once a week, or once a month. He checked Jazmine in at the desk of the urgent care waiting room, packed full of other people waiting to be seen.

_Sitting down never felt so good_, he thought as he flopped down into one of the soft, leather seats, Jazmine in the seat next to him. He wished the newborn baby behind him would shut the hell up and stop crying so much.

Fifteen minutes came and went. The nurse stepped out of a door on the opposite side of the room and called Jazmine's name. She stood up and followed the little African American nurse down the hall.

Until he saw Jazmine return with a weak smile on her face, signaling they could return home, a thought lingered in Huey's head. A thought he wished would not be true.

He thought of their baby, his daughter, Jazmine's daughter: Zora Neale Freeman. Her lovely, little fallow face materialized in his brain. He grinned one of his rare grins he only showed his other half and his daughter a few times.

He felt a tear form as he remembered Zora's birth. He was there the whole delivery, his mind all over the place. Those Modern Lamaze childbirth classes were no joke. He had never felt so confused in years. But, he kept his cool, even when Jazmine stood up in the stirrups, screaming for morphine, codeine, anything to remove the pain. Counting to one hundred was the solution to calm down after she called Huey an emotionless, self-absorbed, Afrocentric bastard in front of the whole staff working on delivering their child. To Huey, it didn't matter. Hearing Zora's first cries, the doctor announcing the top of her head was visible, it all made him forget that bizarre moment. He wiped a rare tear from under his eye before it could slide down his face as he held his daughter for the first time.

But then, the happiness all went away. The pain, the sweat, the blood, the tears, especially the blood, it took over everything.

The haunting thought returned. The exact one he told his brain to never bring up again. It kept asking him the same question over and over, hoping Huey had the answer. One he had to find out very soon.

Is he truly Zora's biological father?

**. . .**

**Note:** As always, I thank everyone who reviewed and/or made a favorite of my stories. I appreciate it very much.

A quick note about this story: I wanted to publish it earlier. However, school has made me release it later than previously planned. This explains my little "sabbatical" from . Until "Tell Me What's Wrong" is finished, my other "in progress" stories are put on hold.**  
**


	2. March 29th, 20XX

**Tell Me What's Wrong  
**

By** DaveTheWordsmith**

**Disclaimer: **Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Two: March 29th, 20XX**

The last thing Jazmine wanted to do was look at her face in the mirror, spot the dark, deep cut on the bridge of her nose, and shriek in pain. Her once soft, flawless face was gone and would never return. Every cosmetic product known to man would not remove the itchy scar, a scar inflicted by a person so vile, so disgusting that she would vomit at the thought of his masked face. Jazmine stared at her visage in the mirror, moving her hand, palm outward, toward the clean glass. A faint smile on her face would make anyone that knew her for her entire life wonder who went and kidnapped the real Jazmine and replaced her with an unauthentic carbon copy. She reached back to feel her orange-reddish hair, unkempt and frizzy from lack of care and attention. Growling, she pulled on both large puffs on the back of her head, in a mixture of what she felt to be frustration and anger.

Staring at the woman in the mirror, she murmured after a raspy growl, "Why are you so retarded? Why?"

"Because you let yourself become that way."

Jazmine's hands dropped to her side. She had to be dreaming. Her twin in the mirror frowned at her real-life counterpart, arms crossed, her red, wool sweater gleaming from the bright light in the room.

The real Jazmine leaned closer to the mirror, her hands on the counter in front of the sink. "What?"

Her reflection shook her head. "I've tried to talk to you before, for the past eight years, since that day…"

Jazmine finished the sentence in her head. Her eyebrows furrowed at what she said, that would have sounded like silence to anyone but herself. _That day…you were raped._

Tears formed in her eyes, piling higher and higher under her eye. As the water overflowed and slid down both cheeks, she turned her head away from the mirror. Her lips quivered. Her shoulders moved up and down from the intense sobs that came from her wrinkled up face.

Her twin shook her head. "Look at me," she said. She frowned, her lips twisted up in disgust. "I said, look at me, Jazmine!"

Jazmine turned her back to her doppelganger trapped in the mirror. She frowned, her nose and lips twisted. "No! Leave me alone!" she said, after a few more cries.

"Face it Jazmine, you can't. I'm you, and you're me. I'll never leave you alone. Until the day you die, you have to see me, hear me, even feel me.

"For eighteen years, I kept quiet. I thought you would learn on your own about what to do and what not to do. But it turns out I was wrong. I warned you not to sleep in your bedroom. Remember when I suggested you go over to the Freeman's? But no, you didn't wanna listen."

As her subconscious went on with her soliloquy, giving the vivid, detailed story from her past, Jazmine watched her tears drip down to the pink tile, her bare feet, facing each other in an in-toe formation. She jammed her thumb in her mouth, in an attempt to stifle her cry.

"Jazmine," her other self said. "The only way you can get over this is to talk about it."

"No, now leave me alone," she said.

She left the bathroom, not acknowledging her reflection as she passed the large mirror, and sneaked into bed. Within minutes, she found herself in sleepy land.

A few hours later, Jazmine's own scream shook her from a deep, intense slumber. She couldn't close her eyes again, or else the shadowy figure would return in her mind. The shadows that surrounded her darkened bedroom made her shiver. She brought her blanket higher up, above her chest to her neck. Her pink fingernails dug deep into the cotton sheets and fleece comforter. She jumped at the heavy whirling of a helicopter. Its bright lights flashed into her room. The dresser littered with toys, stuffed animals and other jewelry she owned since she was ten came into view for a split second, then returned to darkness.

A tear slipped down her face, then another, and another.

The memories came back.

Of being violated.

Of being raped.

The evil laugh he uttered in her ear before he threw her on the very same bed, tied her with chains to the headboard, pinned her down, ripped off her blouse, struggled with her bra before it finally came off. His loud, citrus-y cologne that made her throw up in her own mouth, she couldn't take it. As he was about to kiss her, she slammed him in the head with her own, anything to make him stop. If her legs were free, she would've done much worse. Her attack did not work.

Her reward: a huge slap to the face. Then one more. And one more. One last one made her break. Jazmine wailed like she never had before. Her yells could've destroyed every piece of glass in the house once she saw him take off his jeans, his boxers, then her jeans, move her panties to the side, and force himself in her. She could feel her whole face grow tenser and hot, her face never before felt so hot and cold at the same time. She buckled and moaned in extreme pain with each stroke he inflicted to her entrance. His hand grabbed her face that moved from side to side, so she could only look into his light brown eyes, ones that made her think of him. Jazmine felt her lips shrink and suck backward into her mouth as he kissed her lips, her neck, everywhere north of her chest. He brought another hand to her face, this time a whack to her cheek.

_Stop your cryin', bitch! I said, stop cryin'!_

Jazmine only cried more, which made her oppressor more aggressive, pumping his phallus with more force than before. She felt it stop all of a sudden, only to scream as he turned her around, her back facing him. She wanted to throw up all over his face the moment he brought his gloved hand over to her ass, squeezed it and swarmed it as if he were checking a melon for ripeness, then smacked it in a downward motion.

_Huey! Huey! Help me!_

As he entered her again, she felt her lips whisper the name of her first and only true love, wishing she could have said his name the same way she yelled it in her mind. The fact he couldn't, the fact he was in Washington D.C. for an important Pro-Black Coalition meeting, it made her almost collapse. She yelped as he smacked her ass again and again and again. His heavy breathing hit the back of her neck, her head right in front of his thanks to his hand that snatched a handful of her hair and jerked her to him.

_Time to leave you a present you'll never forget._

Her cries overcame his moans and outcries, warning her he was gonna come: not for her, but inside her. She wished her life could come to an end. Come to an end so she could watch her soul float above her body and thank God for saving her from enduring the rest of the unbearable, searing, piercing, unspeakable pain.

As soon as he finished, he sent her crashing face first into the bed. She didn't care he set her free from bondage, she only worried that what she saved for who she wished to be her husband, was now gone. Her cries turned into deep, dark sobs and nasty coughing fits. The mattress sank less now that she knew he was gone. Her bedroom door slammed shut.

_Looks like I killed you the way these bed sheets are lookin'._

She didn't need to look under her, nor did she want to. She knew it was her own bodily fluid, a sign she had lost her chastity, her virginity. His voice before he left made her throw up everything she had bubbling in her stomach. Luckily it ended up on the floor on the side of the bed.

As Jazmine returned to the present, she buried her face in her palms. She wondered how she was able to cry so much over the past eight years over the same memory, one that haunted her every night, one that she kept a secret.

"Jazmine?"

She jumped at the sudden call of her name. She turned to her right. Huey's stern face somehow made itself completely visible in the darkness. He lay under the covers next to her, his eyes not leaving hers. "Hmm?"

"You all right?"

She picked at imaginary balls of lint on the blanket. She returned back under the covers with Huey. "Yes. I'm fine."

Jazmine turned her back to him, unable to face him. She couldn't tell him the truth. The fact that their daughter might not be…

Her face shrank into a silent cry, the impact of the feeling that she lied about it only being Huey's child finally hitting her. She realized she wasn't only crying for lying about it to Huey. She knew it would hurt Zora if she knew the truth. If she knew the truth.

"Jazmine."

Freezing cold chills ran up her spine. When he usually called her, it was in the form of a question. This time, it was more of a command.

"Jazmine. Tell me the truth."

She swallowed the large ball of mucus that welled up at the very top of her throat.

_Please don't ask, Huey…please don't ask,_ she repeated to herself. She faced Huey, almost unable to see him from the wall of water over her eyes.

"The truth about what?"

Huey slanted his head a little, as if to ask if Jazmine seriously had to ask. Her head sank deeper in her pillow as she waited for Huey's response.

"About Zora."

At this point, Huey had grown to one hundred feet tall while she became a small army figure in terms of how much she felt so embarrassed about something she should have confessed years ago.

"What about Zora?"

"Am I Zora's biological father?"

**. . .**

**Note:** I'd like to thank Secrets4theunderground, KrisB.723 and Darkgene1988 for reviewing the first chapter. I can't thank you enough for the feedback. Once again, school made it impossible to put this up at the time I wanted, but it's better than nothing.

One other thing: it was probably obvious from the beginning, but I had to bump the story rating up from T to M because of this chapter, but this was the only one that needs it.


	3. June 15th, 20XX

**Tell Me What's Wrong  
**

By** DaveTheWordsmith**

**Disclaimer: **Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Three: June 15th, 20XX**

Two people, one of them a small child, the other person a full grown adult, sat under the large oak tree at the apex of the large hill. The male adult's posture remained still. Eyes closed, he brought his back against the tree. He stretched his legs out along the soft blades of grass. The little girl by his side looked up at a large, light blue butterfly that flew back and forth above them, then disappeared out of view.

She bounced up and down, pointing at the tiny creature. She tapped the man on his arm while switching between looking at him and the winged animal. "Daddy, look! Isn't it pretty?"

His eyes fluttered a few times before they opened. He lifted his head. "Hmm?"

The twenty-eight old man let out a small yawn, moving his eyes around to survey the area. By then, the butterfly came and went. He shook his head at his daughter's enthusiasm about something so trivial and fleeting.

_Just like Jazmine_, he thought.

She even fixed their child's long, dark brown hair in the same style she wore when she was little. Neatly done and arranged so it was pulled into two large afro puffs in the rear of her perfectly round head, it made the resemblance more obvious.

Huey allowed his lips to stretch out and form a small smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

It was the second time that week he lied to Zora. But he couldn't disappoint her, not after what happened to her mother eight painful years ago.

Zora sighed. "You didn't see it, did you?"

Huey felt his heart stop. He knew Zora her entire eight-year old life, but every time he felt he had the upper hand, she managed to sneak past his lies like a little fox. "Yes I did."

She crossed her arms. Her eyelids drooped a little. "Nuh uh."

Huey's face grew long, firm. "I did, Zora."

She shook her head. "Nuh uh," she said. "If you did, what did it look like?"

Huey smiled. "It was kind of big, had large, light blue wings, and was about the size of your hand."

Zora could only stare at her father, blinking nervously, as if she realized she was wrong with her assumption.

He lifted her hand, one that required two to fill one of his own. "If it landed in your hand, it would feel like this."

She giggled from Huey's fingers tickling the lines in her palm. Zora jumped in his large lap, her forehead against his. She smiled. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Quiz me again."

Huey groaned, loud enough for him to hear, but not her. He wrapped one arm around her waist, twisted her around so her back faced him. "Again?"

She nodded three times. "Mmm hmm."

Huey sighed. Besides Jazmine, he now had a second weakness: his own offspring. Huey watched the clouds float by in the sky for a few moments before he spoke. "All right," he said. "What's three times five?"

"Fifteen."

As she looked up at him for his reaction, he maintained his unforgiving face, one he could put up at any time. In his mind, he couldn't believe how quickly she learned her times tables. "What's seven times four?"

"Twenty eight."

"Five times ten?"

"Fifty."

"Twelve times twelve?"

"One hundred and forty four. Daddy, ask something harder."

"A hundred times fifty."

Huey watched his daughter pause, close her eyes, mumbling unintelligible words low under her breath. "Give up?"

"No."

"You've got five seconds or I'm moving on."

"Okay…" she closed her eyes, then opened them. "Five thousand?"

Huey nodded. "Right."

Zora looked back at Huey. Her large smile almost made Huey do the same. "Yay, I got it!"

He couldn't believe it. They had just started going over advanced timetables in her class and she figured the answers out to many they had yet to cover. He watched her fool around with her coloring book next to her giant crayon box. Huey made sure to pick a book filled with many African American heroes Huey admired. Her mother may be half-black, but to everyone around the world, she would be black, he thought.

He studied her face, her movements, her responses to many questions he answered for her. For some reason, in his heart, he had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, she could be his biological daughter. It had always been there since her birth. Some of her actions resembled his, but most were like her mother's. He nodded 'yes' after she asked to run up and down the hill, but not too far off.

After she left, he watched more clouds float on by, content with the quiet mood around him. A cool breeze nipped at his neck, ears and nose every so often. Otherwise, it was nice and warm. Moments passed while he continued to stare off at them. One in particular resembled a giant ball with two puffs sticking out from the sides. It reminded him of only one person.

Jazmine.

His mind drifted back over to the dark side. The only regret he had was he waited eight years to ask his wife of eight years, girlfriend of ten, for the truth. The truth about her "encounter" before they got married. The truth about their daughter.

Jazmine would answer the former, but refuse to answer the latter. For years, the voices that haunted his mind grew silent.

It wasn't until Zora turned the age of eight that Huey would bring up the subject a few times while Zora was absent, only to receive nothing but silence or a weak 'I don't know', much to Huey's chagrin. A few days later, he couldn't take the silence anymore. He decided to get a DNA test done. It wasn't cheap, but it was an imperative to know whether he was taking care of a child that wasn't his, or not. This was not only important to him, but to Zora. With that in mind, the three to five day wait was worth it. And tonight, he would get the results of his test; the answer to the question that haunted him over and over.

Over the years the voices grew louder and louder, only now they were yelling right in his ear.

_Get the test!_

_Find out if you're the father!_

_She might not be yours!_

Tonight, they would go away. For good.

Huey looked to his right. He saw his daughter come to a stop in front of him, panting heavily. "Daddy?"

"Yes?" he asked. He watched Zora return to his side, sit down like he did against the tree.

After a few moments, she caught her breath. "When is mommy coming back?"

Huey looked away, down at the grass under his legs. Jazmine would return tonight from her rehab in California. What a coincidence, he thought. Not only would his wife come back, hopefully in her normal form, but he could finally get closure to all of their problems.

He put on his small smile face and reserved attitude, shown only to his child. "In a few hours."

"I miss her."

"I know," he said. "I miss her too."

A moment of silence came and went.

"How come we didn't go with mommy on her vacation?"

"Your mother wanted time to herself," he said. "She's been so busy with her small business and then teaching dance class at the university. Everyone should have time to themselves every once in a while."

He was lucky she was still at a young age, unable to know that a typical vacation didn't last for a month and a half, only this "vacation" was rehab, a depression treatment center to be exact.

"Oh," she said. "Can we get mommy a gift?"

Huey nodded. "Sure. What do you think she would like?"

Zora grinned. "How about a pony?"

For the first time in almost sixteen years, Huey chuckled. _This girl has to be Jazmine's daughter, if not mine, too_, he thought. "Maybe for her birthday."

"Awww…okay."

Huey observed her face, a complete copy of Jazmine's except a few shades darker, grow long, her lip hang low.

"You know what. We can get your mother a present tonight before she comes home."

Huey didn't have enough time to brace the impact of his daughter who jumped on him, her arms around him in a warm embrace. "Yay! Mommy will love it!"

The whole trip back to the Freeman household, Huey and Jazmine did not utter a word. Even when he tried his best to be warm and accommodating, something Huey felt uneasy with doing, her steel walls around her would not crumble. Huey would sometimes look at Jazmine, who watched the light rain fall out her window. Even when the rain came to a stop, she kept her eyes on the massive grassy fields, parks, buildings, anything it seemed, to focus on anything other than Huey. He was surprised when he met Jazmine at baggage claim, ready for a warm kiss, or even a small hug, only to receive nothing.

Nothing.

Only an acute smile, that only Huey could read. _I want to go home,_ it said. And he obliged.

Once they pulled up to the house, an animated Zora flew out the front door, followed by Cindy who continued to walk out the door with her usual slow steps.

"Mommy, you're back!"

Huey looked at Jazmine one last time, able to see her under bright light. He noticed the scars, the blemishes, everything negative on her face was now gone. He watched Jazmine run out of the car and meet her daughter. She kneeled down to catch Zora and hug her, able to see her, feel her and hear her for the first time in almost two months.

"Yo, you just gonna sit in here all day? Ain't even gonna meet up with them two?"

Huey looked to his left at Cindy, crouched down behind the door, her chin resting on her folded hands. He tapped the steering wheel, his eyes on his wife and daughter. "I can't. Not until I get those results."

"Damn, Huey," she said as she stood up. She ran around the car and jumped into the passenger seat. She closed the door. "Why you gotta be all selfish?"

"You know, you sure do ask a lot of questions."

"C'mon, look at them two," she said. She looked at Jazmine and Zora walk side by side and enter the house. "You ain't gotta be all worried about some little DNA test. Even if you ain't the father, she's still your daughter. Point blank, period."

Huey rolled his eyes. "I can't stop being worried. Jazmine refused to tell me whether or not I'm her real father. That's when I knew something was wrong."

"What? How?"

Huey looked at Cindy, then back at the house. "I had a feeling before we got married that…" he said. He sighed, wiped a hand over his face. "I didn't get her pregnant. Someone else did."

Cindy gasped, with her eyes wide open. "Say what?"

Huey slowly nodded twice. "She was pregnant before we got married."

Cindy raised an eyebrow. "So? What's the big deal? Plenty of couples do that now. That don't mean she ain't your real daughter, ya know."

Huey could feel the tears. He sniffed. He did his best to hold them back. He couldn't tell Cindy what happened to Jazmine. "The thing is, before she told me she was pregnant, I don't remember the two of us having sex."

Cindy's face went blank. She blinked, then giggled. "How can you forget something like that? How can you forget y'all fucked?"

His glare toward her made her smile vanish. "We vowed we wouldn't have sex until we were married. Something we believed it was supposed to be saved for. You know, like way back when, when people knew better and had more sense. They knew to wait until after they established themselves because they knew at a young age they wouldn't be able to take care of themselves, let alone babies."

Huey stared at Cindy, who raised her eyebrows. "Why you look at me when you said that last part?"

No answer.

She frowned, stabbed Huey with her finger. "Look, dude. You can't be talkin' about your niece like that."

"I call a spade a spade. You know that."

"Huey, I swear sometimes," Cindy's head swiveled from side to side. She brought her hand to her forehead. "If you wasn't Reezy's brother, I'd..."

"The things he's done lately, I wish I wasn't."

Huey could feel the sarcasm dripping from her laugh. "Very funny."

"You know what I mean. Speaking of which, how is he?"

"He's cool. He told me he supposed to get out tomorrow on parole.

"Oh yeah, he told me something went down a few months ago. Some nigga tried to shank his ass 'cause he wouldn't give him no cigarettes and he got cut up real bad. So later, he went and got someone to hold the nigga down while another nigga went and stabbed him a whole gang of times from behind."

Huey nodded, to fake interest in the subject. "Okay. And?"

Cindy smiled. "Only thing is, it wasn't with no shank, if you get what I mean."

Huey shook his head, unable to dignify that comment. He could understand under the given circumstances why Riley had to do such a thing, but it didn't mean it was completely justified. "Enough of this talk," he said. He focused on the mailbox. "I'm ready to get this over with."

He unlocked the door. The car beeped until he yanked the car keys out of the ignition.

Cindy yawned and stretched her arms. "It's about time. It was gettin' stuffy up in here. Holla at your girl later when you find out the results."

After the two got out of the car, Huey put the alarm on the Challenger. He waited until Cindy entered the house, then he ran to the mailbox. He reached inside and pulled out the numerous envelopes and what he felt to be some bulky mail, and shuffled through them one by one.

_Bill…bill…some magazine for Jazmine…bill…dumb ad for some useless junk__…_

…

His heart skipped a beat. He found it. It was the paternity test results from the DDC, contained within the white envelope at the top of the pile. It cost more than an arm and not just a leg or even a part of a leg, but two legs, to take the test. But the pros outweighed the cons. Once he read the results, things would be settled once and for all.

"Hey."

He didn't have to inquire who it was. Her voice and her light perfume gave her identity away. He turned and faced Jazmine. He could tell his serious face matched hers, almost completely. For once, he was worried she looked as emotionless as him. The only difference was she couldn't stay quiet as long as he could.

"Those the results?"

"Yeah."

She waited for the cool breeze to die down, then spoke. "Time to face the music, right?"

"I'd rather face some Waka Flocka and Gucci Mane," he said. He held up the envelope, shaking it a few times. "It shouldn't have to come down to this, you know?"

She lowered her head, looking at her fingernails. "I know."

"Look, it's not your fault. But it's not just me that needs to know this. Zora does, too. I'd feel wrong lying about being her true father if I wasn't."

She kept her head down. "I know," she said. She paused, then gazed into Huey's eyes. "Look, Huey, I'm so-"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything," he said. He took hold of her hand. "Come on. Let's go."

They walked inside their home, up the stairs to the master bedroom, the same one that belonged to Granddad that was now theirs. They sat side by side on the end of the bed. Jazmine stared as Huey calmly opened the envelope, able to tear the seal open without making any tears to the flap.

Huey's eyes met hers. "Ready?"

He saw Jazmine gather the courage to smile, then give a little nervous tinged laugh. "Yeah," she said.

He yanked the letter out, opened it, scanned it. He looked up, then at Jazmine patting her thighs with her hands. He sighed and shook his head, annoyed by the sound. She stopped. He understood what she was going through, but it still got on his nerves. He diverted his attention back to the letter. He was not surprised by the numerous statistics from the chart at the top of the page. He expected it. Toward the bottom, he found the quick blurb of writing he was looking for: the notes of the results.

He read the letters out loud, slowly, as though reading an eye chart. His ears caught Jazmine's soft whispering, something he guessed to be prayers. "Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged Father, Huey Percy Freeman, ca-"

He stopped. "Unbelievable."

She set a hand on his leg. "What did it say?"

Huey gave her no response. The sound of Zora's footsteps down the hall to the bathroom cut through the silence. His mouth refused to work, even his entire body. His head turned so he could look at his wife in disbelief, in a loss of words, then back down at the paper. After going through the toils and strife, dealing with the rain and the pain, he received the answer, an answer overdue almost nine years. A tear fell and landed on the DCC logo, then another, and another. He couldn't remember the last time he cried, probably not since his grandfather's death.

"Huey?"

He wiped his eyes, then handed her the letter. "Read it for yourself."

Huey watched Jazmine as she took the paper, opened it, and perused it for the notes to simply describe the data contained inside. Time felt as if it slowed to a sloth's pace. Even Jazmine's words sounded echoey and distorted.

"Oh my God!"

Her hand released the page. It let the neatly folded paper parachute down to the carpet floor. She slumped forward, her head in her hands. For the first time, her wails struck a nerve in Huey's heart. Even the tears that leaked out between her fingers made him uncomfortable. At that point he realized her cries, ones bottled up for years and years, could finally be released.

**. . .**

**Note: **Much thanks goes out to Darkgene1988 for the second chapter review. I'm very grateful for the support. Also thanks to anyone who took the time to read this chapter. Writing this story has been a rewarding experience, albeit a tedious one, but it was worth it.


	4. June 15th, 20XX, Part 2

**Tell Me What's Wrong  
**

By** DaveTheWordsmith**

**Disclaimer: **Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Four: June 15th, 20XX, Part 2**

The cries kept coming and coming. Every sharp emotional tidal wave crashed so hard onto her coastline of feelings. Jazmine sniffed, trying her best to not be cognizant to the stinging mixture of tears and mucus sucked back into her nose. A few wipes of the back of her orange sweater sleeve brought clarity to her vision. To her left, Huey fell backward. He spat a dry grunt from between his lips, unable to form any words. To her right, footsteps grew louder, then became softer as if retreating from something dangerous.

"No no, Zora, come here," Jazmine heard a familiar voice command her daughter. It had to be Cindy. "They'll come see you in a little bit, okay?"

"Okay, Auntie Cindy," Jazmine heard Zora reply. Her intuition was correct.

"Matter of fact, I'm makin' some oatmeal cookies. Want some?"

"Yes, can I? Please, please, pretty please?"

"Aight, but after that you gone go and brush your teeth, then go to bed."

"Okay."

Through the doorway, she caught the sight of Cindy bent over, looking over her daughter to talk to her, then guide her with her hands on Zora away from the door.

Jazmine lifted her head as a tear drop trickled down her cheek, under her chin, then dripped down to her collar. She got up to pick up the DDC letter, flipped over to expose the blank reverse side. She nearly dropped the paper as she turned it over to read it, then straightened it out. The notes given at the bottom of the letter struck a chord in her heart. It felt too surreal to be true.

Jazmine read them aloud, her voice shaky from her crying. "Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged Father, Huey Percy Freeman, cannot be excluded as the biological father of Zora Neale Freeman. Based on the genetic testing results, the probability of paternity is 99.99% when compared to an untested random man of the North American population."

Huey sat up, as if struck by lightning. His brown eyes felt as if they latched onto hers, holding onto them, unable to keep her from looking away. "But…but how?"

Jazmine closed her eyes, her lips trembling. She put the letter in her lap, then lifted a finger to her cheek, riding herself of another annoying tear. "You don't remember, but…" she said. She opened her eyes, her mouth able to stiffen up. "Remember how I told you I was pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Well…I didn't tell you everything."

As she told Huey the truth with no details left out, her mind traveled back in time to almost nine years ago. She was amazed by how much she remembered. She could hear the nice and slow Frank Sinatra tune that softly and gently caressed her eardrums, creating a very relaxing atmosphere, as if it were happening in real time. She reminisced that oblivious to the calm mood in the air, Huey's eyebrows scrunched up together, meeting at the center above the bridge of his nose. What he saw had to make his stomach bubble. But Jazmine didn't care. Each forkful of spaghetti that she stuffed into her mouth only made her hungrier. The dim lights of the Italian restaurant probably made things better for Huey, unable to see the thick, almost blood red tomato sauce splashed across Jazmine's lips. Jazmine peeked at everyone at the booths to her left, then satiated her hunger with another serving of pasta. Her hunger was genuine, only for a reason she kept secret from Huey for the past few weeks due to the very angry response she would receive if he found out the truth.

Huey shook his head, subsequently rolling his eyes. He looked down at his plate, halfway done with his cheese and tomato lasagna, then at Jazmine right next to him, moaning in delight as she chewed on her sustenance. "Jazmine, you sure you haven't got a tapeworm in your stomach?"

Jazmine stopped her fork in mid-flight. Her fork hit her plate with a loud 'pink' sound, landing at the outskirts of her large spaghetti hill. "No, I'm perfectly fine, Huey," she said, totally aware of her lie. She tried not to react too excitedly in public, biting her lip as a way to restrain herself from fully exhibiting the large feeling of lust for her meal. She picked her fork back up, more than eager to stab it into her dish and spin it around until it gathered plenty of spaghetti. "I've had some nausea in the morning and afternoon, but it's getting a little better. I mean, being sick for more than a week will make you hungry. A little too hungry."

"I understand," he said. "But hungry enough to feed two football teams?"

Jazmine felt heat rise from her cheeks. She felt like she shrunk a few inches, sinking deeper in her comfortable seat. "Huey, all I had was-"

"A large plate of ravioli, two plates of lasagna, then a plate of spaghetti, and then you went and asked for some Fettuccine Alfredo," Huey said, counting down the list of items on his fingers. "And now, this second helping of spaghetti. I wouldn't be surprised if the place decided to adopt you."

Jazmine frowned, her lips twisted up and to the right. While eating more food, an obvious sign she suffered from a sudden fit of gluttony, she had to respond. She stared at Huey as he took another bite. "I can't help it, Huey. I don't get why you're so upset," she said. She chewed more food before she continued. "I mean, it's all you can eat Tuesday, so it's not like you're paying extra for this."

Huey sighed. He took one last helping down of his lasagna, then put his fork down to rest by his plate. "I know, but it said all you can eat, not all the food in the restaurant you can eat."

Jazmine feigned a happy smile, her eyes narrow. She wiped her hands on the napkin laid out across her lap, then opened a small wet wipes packet to clean her mouth, then used it on her hands. "Ha, ha. Hilarious. You should consider a career in stand-up," she said. She swallowed her food with a big grin, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. "Mmm, that was so good."

Huey rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it was."

It didn't take long for Jazmine to devour her last plate of spaghetti. She tossed her fork on her plate as she released a pent up sigh unable to be held back any longer. She leaned back into the booth, rubbing her stomach. She watched Huey get the check from the waitress and put enough money in for the bill plus tip. "Before we go, can I have a slice of chocolate cake?"

Huey's mouth curled up into a small smile, undetectable to anyone but her. "Seriously? C'mon. With all that food you put into that black hole you call a stomach, you could've fed all of Africa. Matter of fact, if people saw you eat all that food, I bet they would swear you had to be pregnant."

Jazmine spit the water she drank back into her glass, then set it down. She coughed into her handkerchief, irritated by the swallow of liquid that went down the wrong pipe. After a quick moment, she cleared her throat.

Huey patted her back, his eyes wider than usual. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said through a few coughs, then cleared her throat.

As they walked out the restaurant toward the car in the middle of the parking lot, she knew her unusual silence made Huey uncomfortable. The noisy crickets and cars that occasionally passed by on the street sounded sweet in comparison to her muted voice. The way he looked in her eyes, she presumed he would eventually crack and inquire about her lack of dialogue.

They both got inside Dorothy, Jazmine in the passenger seat as usual and Huey behind the wheel. Huey started her up and drove her out of the parking lot onto the main street. Jazmine was right. He had to ruin the nice, quiet mood by running his mouth. "All right, tell me what's wrong."

"…No."

"Why not?" he asked. "Jazmine, I know something's wrong but you won't say anything about it. If you tell me, I won't get mad."

Jazmine sighed. She realized it was either now or never. The truth had to come out now, or else expect worse later. "Okay…I'll tell you, only if you please don't get mad at me."

"Mad at you for what?"

"For telling the truth."

"Telling me the truth about…what?"

She paused. "Nothing."

"Jazmine, what's going on?"

Jazmine watched Huey's eyes switch from looking at her right, then her left eye, then straight ahead in time to drive through the intersection before the light could turn red. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" Huey asked, not looking at Jazmine because he needed to keep his eyes on the road.

Jazmine screamed. A loud horn from behind them made Huey swerve away from the right lane, returning to the middle lane. She looked back through the rear windshield at the large big rig, nearly hidden in the dark night streets. "Huey, be careful!"

"Forget about that. You're really pregnant?"

Jazmine huffed, folding her arms across her chest. Some poignant guitar from BB King's "The Thrill is Gone" playing on the radio cut through the sound of rain landing on the window shield and the silence between the two newlyweds. With almost twenty minutes left before they would return to Woodcrest, she knew it was going to be one hell of a ride.

"Yes, I'm pregnant. You know, I'm with child, I'm expecting, I'm about to experience total hell aka labor-"

Huey shook his head. "I know, I know."

Jazmine raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you ask?"

"I want to know how you got pregnant, that's why."

"Huey, if you have to ask how, then you shouldn't-"

He glared at her. "Jazmine, you know what I mean! We never…" he said. He sighed. "We never had relations until a few weeks ago. You had to have gotten pregnant before then. Who's the other guy?"

Jazmine turned away, looking out her window. She couldn't let Huey see the tears trickling down. "I can't say."

"Jazmine, as your husband, I'd better know and I'd better know right now."

Jazmine faced Huey, her head snapping toward him as if someone yanked her by the hair. "Why?"

Huey made a sharp right turn. Jazmine's right side slammed into the door as he executed the turn at the green light. "Because Jazmine, I'm not be the father. Since we're married, legally, I have to take care of that child. Now tell me who's the other guy. Is it someone I know?"

"No."

"Oh, so it's a one-night stand baby huh?"

Jazmine felt ready to yell at his smart remark. However, she held back. She sighed. "Huey Freeman…you know I'm not like that at all."

Huey shook his head. "Then how else could you be pregnant? I know one thing. You didn't get pregnant by me."

"Huey, relax," Jazmine said. She sighed, her hand on her temple, massaging it. "I think you're still under the influence. I knew you shouldn't have drunk that, um…what's it called? Jimmie Walker?"

Huey shrugged. "Johnnie Walker. Jimmie Walker was J.J. from Good Times," he said. "Anyway, I needed something to take my sorrows away. Nothing else could."

"What about me?"

"It obviously didn't help me any."

"C'mon Huey, it's been almost four weeks, almost a whole month since he died! Damnit, get over it already!" She said. She surprised herself and even Huey with the way he stared at her. The car slid over to the left toward the left lane before he righted the car. "Look…I'm very sorry about what happened. We all are. Mommy and daddy are, too. We all miss Mr. Freeman. And then what happened to Riley, I'm so sorry about that, too. But look, I planned tonight as a chance for us to get away. You know, stop worrying about all this drama and-"

"Jazmine, forget about that. Stop changing the subject. How did you get pregnant?"

Jazmine looked down at her black high heels, matching perfectly with her same color dress. She played with her hands in her lap. "I…I was…"

She couldn't say it.

"Well?"

Still couldn't.

"Tell me!"

She finally caved in. "…I was raped."

Huey punched the brakes, almost colliding with the black BMW in front that idled, waiting for the red light. Jazmine turned her head, unable to muster the strength to face him. She could tell he wanted more than anything to murder the person responsible, but she had to suffer the first stages of his rage first.

"You were _what_?"

Jazmine felt her stomach rock from side to side as the car moved for a while, then came to another stop. She turned to see Huey place Dorothy in park, then shut off the engine. To her right, she could see the Freeman residence with its foyer and front door lights on.

"I was…" Jazmine said. She paused to sniff, not ready for more tears about to arrive. "Remember that night, when you visited me…at the hospital, and-"

"Jazmine," Huey took Jazmine's hand, one way to get her to look into his eyes. "You said you were in a horrible car accident. Right?"

"I didn't get in any accident. The truth is…I…"

Jazmine stopped speaking. Her face crumbled, reduce to wrinkles from heavy sobbing. She felt his arm brush over her shoulder and rest on her back. She shrugged it off, continuing to cry into her elbow. She jerked her hand away from his.

Huey frowned. "Jazmine, tell me the truth. Who did this to you?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Why not? Why not!"

"I'm scared…scared of what you might do!"

He slammed a fist on the steering wheel with his face fixed into a tight grimace. "Damnit, Jazmine!"

She knew her angry face was on when she rotated to face him. Her jaw muscles never felt so tight and warm in her life, as well as her fists she kept at her side. She heard B.B. King segue into Albert King's "Born Under a Bad Sign". "I just can't, okay? I know that if you found out the truth, you'd never be the same again!"

"Let me get this perfectly clear. You chastise me for being inebriated over the fact I can't get over Granddad's death, but you can't answer a simple question about something horrible as rape!"

"Fine, you wanna know?"

Lightning flashed, lighting up parts of the dark clouds in the sky and the interior of Dorothy. "Yes Jazmine, I wanna know. Who did it? Who?"

A large round of thunder surprisingly did not make Jazmine scared. She whispered, "Riley."

Seeing the rare event of Huey staring at her as if he'd seen a ghost made things more painful. She covered her mouth, trying her best to suppress her enormous cries full of anger, disappointment, and most of all, hurt and sorrow. Crying, she threw the door open and jumped out of the car. Albert King stopped singing and playing his guitar once she shut the door. She darted across the street to her own home, a place she unexpectedly felt more safe than with Huey. She was absolutely sure that he would not only be upset at her, but possibly lash out at his own flesh and blood.

. . .

**Note: **This is gonna be a short note. I can't put this up without thanking BabiiD0ll8o8 and MzMinni3 for reviewing the third chapter. Also Darkgene1988 for his comments on the chapter.


	5. The Choice is Yours, Nigga

**Tell Me What's Wrong  
**

By** DaveTheWordsmith**

**Disclaimer: **Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Choice is Yours, Nigga  
**

Huey listened to Jazmine's story, but needed to clarify to her how he felt months later. He could remember it perfectly clear.

The day had finally arrived. Riley would return to his residence, completely not cognizant of what was in store for him. Huey preferred the man in question's welcome back party to start out with an offering of a large dish of revenge, served cold of course.

The militant twenty year old sat in the main sofa facing the large screen television, one leg stretched out, laid out on the coffee table. He took a large gulp of Jack Daniels mixed with Coke, then set the cup down next to his boot. Huey didn't care that Elton John's "Rocket Man (I Think It's Going To Be A Long, Long Time)" blasted so loud the neighbors could hear it. Huey sung along with the lyrics, his voice slurred and raspy. His hand wiped his half open eyes as he yawned. His heart was smashed in so many pieces, swept up and placed in a trash bin, only to be set ablaze after some alcohol was poured inside. Even after all those months, he still couldn't get over his feelings for her.

Huey stopped mimicking Elton as he picked up his cell phone resting between his legs and flipped it open. He brought the phone close to his lips. "Dial Jazmine."

He chuckled at how inebriated he sounded. He groaned in response to her voice mail, narrated by her bubbly, kind voice. _It couldn't even ring once_, he complained.

He ended the call and tossed it to the side. It was probably the fiftieth time that day he tried to reach her. He lost count after the twentieth. He watched the phone bounce a few times before it settled on the end cushion, leaning against the arm rest.

_Fuck it_, he thought. _I'll call again later._

It had been eight months since Jazmine disappeared in the night to her parents' house, never to return to their home, and a few weeks since Jazmine refused to speak to him over his reluctance to support her in her time of need. He tried to talk to her father in desperation, in hopes he could get through to her and give him time to speak, even if it was only for a minute, to explain his side of the story. Tom called him a few days later with the unfortunate news Jazmine had moved in with Cindy on the other side of town and wanted to get a divorce due to Huey's behavior. Cindy was fortunately cajoled by Huey into stopping by, letting him know Jazmine rescinded the divorce but Jazmine felt they should be separated until Huey got his act together. If only he could convince Cindy it was the other way around. She was the one who needed an attitude adjustment.

"Rocket Man" segued into "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me", a tune Huey played from time to time to get over the pain. He rubbed his temples, unable to get thoughts of Jazmine out of his head. Still shots of their wedding day flashed in front of him. Then, his own brother with Jazmine took over, ones of him dragging her into a room, ripping her clothes off, throwing her onto a bed somewhere, her cries only heard by him. The conflagration in his heart grew in vehemence as if his brother's presence fed the flame more fuel.

"Riley, what I'm gonna do to you, you're gonna wish you never touched Jazmine. Because of you, my marriage is finished, and tonight, you will be, too," Huey said, his voice trembling. He reached for his cup to take down the last few swallows and then tossed it over his shoulder behind the sofa. With the lights in the room so dim, he winced at the flash of lightning that lit the place for a split second.

"Don't let the suuuuuuuun…go down on meeeeeeeeeee!" Huey sang at the top of his lungs before he leaned back in the sofa. He chuckled, amazed at how after all this time, Jazmine still had a negative effect on his psyche. After he put both feet on the table, he placed his hands in his lap. His eyelids grew heavier with each second that passed him by. Before they could close shut, the front door burst open. Huey jumped up at the "bang" the door made when it swung against the wall, unable to open no more. He muted Elton John in the middle of singing the first lyric of "Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word" and shot up from his seat.

"Yo! Young Reezy's back up in this bitch!" Huey heard a different, yet familiar voice declare after thunder rumbled and the front door slammed shut.

_No, it can't be._ Huey thought. _He sounds…different._

Huey stumbled into the foyer, adjusting the collar of his Public Enemy shirt. He stopped at the sight of his younger brother, dripping wet with rain and dressed in his orange prison suit.

"'Bout time someone showed they self," Riley said with his usual slick smile. He rubbed the back of his head, cut low and without his cornrows. "Shoulda known it was you. Who else would be playin' gay ass Elton John? Maybe Gangstalicious but that nigga dead."

Huey couldn't move. He stared at Riley, who at seventeen years of age was now about the same height as him. Even his voice had deepened considerably, almost as deep as Huey's own.

Huey watched Riley's eyes scan him from head to toe. Riley shook his head. "Damn, Huey. You look like Hell. Like you been drinkin' and stayin' locked up in here for weeks or somethin'."

If Riley were wrong, Huey would have actually laughed at that statement. Huey ran his hand over his mouth and chin, the rugged hairs of his mustache and beard starting to grow running over his palm.

Riley frowned. One of his eyebrows rose. "What? You ain't got nuthin' to say to a nigga?"

He looked down at his hands, now balled up into tight fists. His usual glare was fixed onto Riley, who started to approach him, his open right hand out in anticipation of what would be a handshake or even a hug. Huey's breathing grew heavier, his teeth grinding. More images of Riley with Jazmine in bed flooded his memory banks.

Huey couldn't take it anymore.

Before he could change his mind, Huey ran toward Riley with his head down and his left shoulder up at a sharp angle. As if it were in slow motion, he observed Riley's amused face wash over into one who suffered from a sharp jolt of pain as he leapt into Riley's chest with his shoulder, the two of them falling onto the floor by the stairs. Huey caught Riley in a bear hug, trying his best to pretend Riley's punches at his chest did not register. But they did. Huey elbowed Riley and then crawled on top of him, foaming at the mouth. Huey swung his right arm tightly around Riley's neck and pulled It backward with his left hand around his right wrist into a headlock.

"What – the – fuck, Huey?" Riley asked between sharp intakes of breath. He wheezed as Huey's grip around his neck increased in intensity. Riley grunted at the impact of Huey's right knee into the middle of his back.

"Stop acting like you're innocent, Riley," Huey said through gritted teeth, his breathing as heavy as his brother's. Sweat beads dripped off of his forehead, landing on his brother's jump suit. The thought of being caught up in what could be a nigga moment slipped his mind. The idea of playing nice and assuming the role of detective or a good cop was thrown out of the window. He knew Riley well, and this was probably the one and only chance he would get to coerce the truth out of his younger brother. "You didn't have to rape her!"

"I ain't rape – her – nigga!" Riley socked Huey between the eyes, landing on the point of his nose, then in the corner of his mouth. Riley rolled around on the ground, gasping for air once Huey released his vice grip he imitated with his arm wrapped around Riley's throat. Huey fell backward while Riley turned over onto his hands and knees, turning the other way toward the front door.

Huey leaped back up on his feet and pounced on Riley, both of them yelling in pain. Huey tugged Riley's hair beginning to form an afro and pulled him up so his lips could bark directly into Riley's ear.

"Yes, you did. Jazmine told me everything!" Huey said. He threw Riley down face first. "You know you raped Jazmine! Just admit it!"

"What you talkin' 'bout, nigga?" Riley asked, his voice muffled from his face pushed into the carpet. Huey's frown intensified due to Riley's reluctance to answer his question. "I ain't rape yo' wife!"

"Stop playing stupid, Riley. I wasn't born yesterday."

Riley reached back and raked Huey's face with his fingers. As Huey yelped while wiping his face, Riley scampered away from Huey and leaned back against the staircase. Huey picked at his eye and then rubbed it with the back of his hand until his vision returned to normal. He stood at the other side of the foyer, glaring with all of his might at a frowning and grimacing Riley.

"Damn, nigga. I come back home after eight months of doin' time 'cause some niggas decided to snitch on me hustlin' out in them streets. Then, when I got in the muthafuckin' pen, I damn near got killed by two different niggas who wanted my ass dead. And this is the welcome back treatment I get? I thought we was fam, nigga?"

Huey wanted to throw himself at Riley again, but feared he would trip over himself if he tried. Riley had gotten considerably stronger since the last time they fought, the day before he turned himself in to serve his time.

"I thought we were, too," Huey wiped his mouth that was busted open from Riley's punch. He spit some blood out, disturbed by the bitter, metallic taste. "Til you fucked around with my wife."

Riley shrugged. "You trippin', Huey. Jazmine been lyin', 'cause I ain't rape her. She got you goin' in circles."

"Riley, I gave you a chance to fess up," Huey shook his head. "Guess I got no other choice."

Huey lifted the back of his shirt, his fingers feeling between his belt and his Army fatigue pants for what he had been saving for nine months. His fingertips grazed across the cold metal of the rough hand grip. Faster than the blink of an eye, he drew the all-black .44 Mag Revolver and pointed it at his own flesh and blood. With his other hand, he took off the safety and held it, his right index on the trigger. He watched Riley put his hands up, palms out toward Huey. "This'll force the truth out of you."

Riley sighed. "Nigga, you drunk as hell. You losin' it."

Huey couldn't stop his heavy breathing. For once, he could feel his hands trembling, the revolver involuntarily doing the same. "Don't think I won't kill you if I have to."

"Fine," Riley said, his eyes aimed down toward his Timberland boots. "I'll be one hundred with you."

"About time. Start talking," Huey said. "Just be careful about what you say. It could be the last."

"Aight. One day before y'all got married," Riley said. "Jazmine came by the crib, cryin' and shit, talkin' 'bout how you was basically doggin' her out 'cause you weren't the father of her child and goin' on a rant, goin' off talkin' 'bout niggas this, crackas that, and the Illuminati and all that shit. But yeah, she stopped by here, needin' a nigga to talk to. So, I did what any real nigga would do in that situation-"

Huey snorted, with his eyes reduced to thin slits, his bottom lip poked out. "You motherfucker."

Riley frowned and twisted his mouth. "You gone let me finish, Kanye?"

Huey's finger on the trigger felt a bit heavier. He aimed the sights so they lined right in the middle of Riley's face. "Yeah. But watch your mouth, Taylor Swift."

"Anyway," Riley said. He rolled his eyes. "I sent her back to her crib, 'cause I knew what I was gone tell her would just fly over her head. She can't handle real nigga shit. Then a few days later, C-Murph call me talkin' 'bout how Jazmine been raped by some R. Kelly type nigga, known for messin' wit' girls half his age, but ain't tell nobody 'bout it 'til then."

"So you mean…you mean that-"

"Exactly, nigga. It wasn't me, damn! C'mon nigga, you know the deal: homies over hoes. Besides," Riley diverted his eyes to the front door, then back at his feet. "If C-Murph found out, she'd pull a Lorena Bobbitt on my ass with the quickness."

Huey blew out a large breath from between his immensely dry lips. He lowered his gun but kept it in his hand. "You've got a point there."

"Yeah. Course I do. Plus, C-Murph told me what went down with Jazzy while I was locked up. So it couldn't have been me. I mean, it's fucked up what Jazzy went through, but I ain't the one who did it, nigga."

Huey disregarded his gun that fell to the floor. He slid down against the wall until he landed on the floor. His hands fixed into a steeple on top of his bended knees, he stared at a blank spot on the wall. "Man, Riley…I fucked up. I almost was about to shoot you."

Huey flinched when he felt Riley's presence next to him, choosing to sit next to his older brother. He gazed into Riley's eyes in an attempt to read his thoughts. He could tell Riley wasn't about to crack any gay jokes this time. "This ain't like you, Huey. You usually ain't that easy to fuck with. You actin' way more soft than I last saw you, before I did my time," Riley said with a grin. He chortled. "See, what's why my ass ain't gettin' married. Bitches tyin' you up make you moist as hell, willin' to kill your own family 'cause she's buggin'. I mean, you saw what happened to Usher when he got married. When a little white kid starts singin' better than him, you know shit ain't right."

Huey couldn't believe it. He felt he was dreaming the way he threw his head back, caught in a giant wave of laughter. Riley chuckled along with him.

Huey's laughs regressed into small chortles before he regained his straight faced, blunt composure. "I haven't laughed like that in a long time…since we were living with Mom…"

He looked at Riley, able to sense he could understand what popped in his head so well he didn't need to finish his sentence. "I feel you. No homo."

Loud, rapid knocks at the door made Huey leap to his feet. He looked behind him to spot Riley right behind him. Huey closed one eye before he glanced in the peephole and then backed up to open the door. Cindy stood on the front step, her entire head save the front of her face swallowed up by the black hood of her jacket soaked from the pouring rain. Huey's tense face loosened up at the sight of Cindy breathing heavily, leaning against the left side of the doorway. Riley jogged over to her and embraced her, followed by a quick kiss on the lips.

"Yo, Huey, I ran all the way back from Ed's crib and drove all the way down here…to tell you that…" she said, her voice hoarse from fatigue, before she stumbled and fell forward into the house.

Riley threw his hands under her arms to help her stand up straight. "Yo, you aight?"

Huey helped Cindy up as well and shut the front door with his free hand. "What's wrong? What did you want to tell me?"

Cindy turned toward Huey and managed a small smile. "Jazzy told me to tell you she's sorry 'bout all the bullshit she put you through," she said. "She was goin' through Hell, but didn't wanna tell nobody. 'Cept me, that is."

Huey frowned at her and shrugged. "So? Why couldn't she just call me and tell me that herself?"

The way Cindy tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows with her arms crossed, he definitely knew either he was out of the loop or he was taking her for a fool. "Damn, Huey, don't you know what's goin' on?"

"Yeah, like the Cleveland Cavaliers owner knew LeBron was going to the Heat," Huey said. He sighed after he heard no response from her. "That was a joke. Tell me what's going on."

Cindy grinned. "Jazzy's at Wuncler Memorial Hospital right now goin' through labor and should be deliverin' the baby tonight. I can take y'all there right now."

Riley's eyes lit up. He smiled. "No bullshit? You sayin' I'mma be an unc?"

"Yup. And I'mma be an auntie."

"Then what we waitin' for?" Riley said. He opened the door and let Cindy outside, then turned to look at Huey. "C'mon Huey, let's bounce."

Huey spun around, his back to Riley. He sighed. "No Riley, I can't."

"Why not, nigga?" Riley asked. "You still beefin' wit' her 'cause you don't think the baby yours or somethin'?"

Huey wiped under his eye before a tear could slip out. He couldn't think of showing any emotion in front of Riley, of all people. He faced his brother, able to feel his eyes throw an ice cold glare his way. "What do you think?"

Riley shook his head. "I think you actin' more homo than Raz B right now, that's what I think. I never thought this day would come, when I'd be the voice of reason in this muthafucka," he said. "Look, if I knew C-Murph was gone be bringin' a seed into this world, mine or not, I'd be wit' her all the way, 'cause I know she would support me if I was goin' through thangs.

"You of all people should be agreein' with me. If you down for not havin' no bastard kids and keepin' the black community from fallin' apart like you say you about all the damn time, you gone' meet us down at the hospital and witness the birth of your baby boy or girl."

Huey shrugged. "I can't."

"Man, nigga, you need to stop bein' selfish and go see Jazzy. Unless you wanna stay a gay bitch ass nigga, stayin' at home gettin' drunk and wastin' your life cryin' over something Jazzy didn't have a choice in goin' through and wasn't her fault in bein' in. The choice is yours, nigga."

Huey watched Riley run out the house and slam the door behind him. He groaned at the thoughts of going to the hospital, still hurt from the fact Jazmine couldn't apologize to him in person. He threw himself in the middle of the sofa, his head in his hands. On one side, being a father to a child he wasn't sure was his would definitely be out of his element. But on the other side, he could always stay separated from Jazmine, and just escape the responsibility of fatherhood and end his marriage already on the verge of crumbling.

"I'm gonna hate myself in the morning…" Huey said. He grabbed his phone in the couch, his keys on the coffee table and his jacket by the door and ran outside into the pouring rain, hoping he'd make it in time to see his child being born.

**. . .**

**Note:** I'd really like to express my gratitude to MzMinni3 for the review and to anyone who's taken the time to read this story. Now that I have a month off from school, I have more time to concentrate on this story and get it finished off once and for all.


	6. Joy & Pain, Pain & Joy

**_Tell Me What's Wrong_  
**

By** DaveTheWordsmith**

**Disclaimer: **Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

**Chapter Six:** Joy & Pain, Pain & Joy

As Huey Percy Freeman arrived at the conclusion of what happened on his end, Jazmine Marie Dubois tried to move the muscles in her jaw in an effort to make her lips part and words to spill out from between her pearly whites and over her bubblegum pink tongue – yet nothing sprung out that was intelligible to anyone except maybe an infant or a one or two-year old child. Her gaze travelled down to her folded hands nestled tightly in her lap, the ruggedness of her blue jeans able to provide somewhat of a small source of warmth in the middle of what she could only describe as a giant, life sized icebox. She knew what Huey would ask, but was she ready to expose the information she attempted to hoard in the farthest recesses of her mind for almost ten years? If she told the complete truth of what happened that atrocious, unforgivable night, what would be her husband's response? To go out and kill the man, the man she knew was still alive to this very day? Would he lash and thrash about in anger, throwing every tangible item in the room in sight, unable to simmer down and possibly endanger not only herself, their daughter and Cindy, but himself as well? What if Huey showed no emotion, no sympathy, no hint of a normal response to the genuine information she would divulge to him, only to find out days later that he would abandon her with their daughter, in a way only he could express how embarrassed he was to be around a woman so vile, one who in his eyes was nothing but a walking pariah. The many scenarios played out on the big screen inside Jazmine's mind, and she was in the front row, eating her buttery popcorn, sucking the dark carbonated beverage in her hand through a straw, scared of what would happen next, even though she already knew the outcome for each event taking place before her eyes.

Jazmine crossed her ankles, her navy blue Keds blending in with the thick curls of the carpet. She couldn't lift her head and look at Huey right next to her, his shoulder inches from her own. She drew in a large breath, holding it in her small lungs like a prisoner sentenced to life without possibility of parole. Every second felt like an eternity. Every minute felt like forever. The hour that passed felt infinite, like a whole day already whipped past them and ushered in tomorrow without a glaring sign. To her left, she could hear the rain start up again, banging against the window pane like tiny pebbles. The eerie hissing of the wind rustling through the large oak tree sent shivers up and down her spine. Was God really trying to scare her into telling the truth? Huey spilled his guts out, it seemed. He rubbed his forehead after his mouth ceased to speak no more. He brought a finger up to his eye, wiping a tear as he recollected about how horrible he felt, being so rotten toward his brother, who oddly had to yell some sense into his ear, as if they were in the Twilight Zone and everything was in reverse – Riley had all the sense in the world, and Huey did not. What made Jazmine twitch as if someone jammed a needle into her stomach was how Huey broke into tears about how wonderful Zora's birth was, especially after they lost their first child they tried to conceive by an unfortunate miscarriage months before he or she was born. Jazmine leaned into Huey, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, kissing him on the lips like what felt to be a hundred times, her own tears mixing with his.

She couldn't hold it back anymore, she thought. The truth had to be revealed, even if it meant someone would get hurt, and she knew at least one person would be put in harm's way. Jazmine's head rose on its own, a miracle considering how it had transformed into a giant lead ball from it being hung low for so long, unable to return to its normal position. The air in her lungs flew faster than a speeding bullet up through her lungs, her windpipe and through her mouth out into the freezing cold room.

"There's more."

"There is?"

She nodded. "Yes."

She looked into his sparkling eyes, moist with tears, surprised his anger had not shown itself yet. "Tell me."

The tingly prickling at the back of her eyeballs returned. The tears – they were coming, she knew it. Jazmine ignored the sensation, willing her mind not to let them come. "A month before I told you I was pregnant, I was with my parents."

Jazmine shut her eyes, complete darkness surrounding her every direction. She continued to talk, every word surprisingly comfortable enough to flow from her as if reciting a poem or movie script. Darkness exploded around her with giant, bright flashes of light, each miniature piece of the wall of pitch blackness replaced by color one by one, until the scene pieced together could be made out fully. Jazmine, nine years younger, mumbled lowly under her breath, her head lowered, her eyes closed, only a little unaware of the voices around her, escalating in intensity as each voice answered the other.

"Amen."

She restored her vision, a smile on her face. Eyeing her food, she grabbed the nearby spoon by her plate and stabbed it into the bowl of French onion soup, a large circle full of thick swirls of light, medium and dark shades of orange and yellow, with dark green specks of green onion floating on the surface of the dish. She threw a few crackers into the middle, submerging them one by one with her spoon.

"I thought we weren't going to start another business. Didn't you decline the offer?"

Jazmine lifted her head and swiveled it to the left at her father, his mouth full of mashed potatoes and green beans, waiting for him to respond to her mother's inquiry. Jazmine slurped some soup from the spoon she held up to her lips and then took a bite of some of the stringy cheese that slid down onto her tongue by mistake – but she couldn't let such cheese go to waste, and devoured that as well.

Tom Dubois explained through a full mouth, "Now honey, Robert and I agreed it would be best to have another source of income in case this economy continues to go south."

Sarah Dubois frowned, her hand around a tall glass of white wine. "I don't mind you starting a business, honey, but a sports bar, with all those women and God knows what else in there?" she paused to take a sip of wine. She shook her head, swallowing before she spoke. "I can't allow it Tom, no way."

Tom's neutral face fixed itself into a scowl. "What's so wrong with that?" he asked. He took a spoonful of food and forced it into his mouth. "It's where plenty of people, especially eligible bachelors, go these days after a long day's work. Why so against it, honey? I don't see any harm in it."

Jazmine let her spoonful of soup hover over the bowl, allowing it to cool off. She almost dropped it handle first into the steaming yellow broth from the sudden sound of her mother's sharp voice. "Haven't you heard the news, Tom? About these bars and clubs in the nearby area that have been robbed and people have waited outside for customers to come out and shoot them down? For no reason, Tom! Innocent people could get hurt, including you!"

"Sarah, we're in Woodcrest, not Baltimore," he said. He gulped down some wine. "There aren't any hoods or thugs in this area, not yet at least."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "It's not about those – those thugs being here," she said. "It's about you, and your safety."

Tom shrugged. "There's nothing to worry about, all we have to do is-"

Sarah brought her empty glass down on the table. "No, Tom, no sports bar! Tell Robert he's on his own!"

"I knew I shouldn't have brought it up. I knew I should've kept it a secret from you," Tom shook his head. He slid his hands down the side of his face, as if he were about to rub the skin completely off of his skull. "That's what you always do, downplay my ideas," Tom's scowl became more defined, more rough. He shoved his plate six inches in front of him. "I'm tired of it, Sarah! Why do you have to always act so ridiculous?"

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not acting ridiculous, Tom. You are," she said. "For not considering us, your wife and your only child, your daughter," she gestured at Jazmine, who ceased her eating long ago, her head down, staring at her food. "Instead, you only want to think about money, money, _money_! Like a selfish child!"

Tom's face frowned even harder. "I'm not a selfish child! If anyone in here is selfish, it's you," he said as he pointed at her. "For not thinking of me and what I want, what our family wants. No, the only one you think about is yourself!"

Sarah stood up, knocking her empty glass sideways on the table. "Well maybe if you were here more often instead of at the office or in court defending those stupid bozos that are guilty in the first place, you wouldn't have to hear me sounding so selfish! Hmmm, did you think of that? Huh?"

Jazmine put her head up, her eyes stinging from the tears, her lips trembling. "Mommy! Daddy! Stop it!"

Tom continued to glare at Sarah, ignoring his daughter. "You know what? Maybe that's what I should do!" he stood up from his seat at the end of the table opposite of Sarah. "Maybe I _should_ stay at the office and _stay_ defending those stupid bozos, I mean my clients!" he said. "What's the benefit of staying _here_, a place where I don't get enough appreciation from my own wife than I do with my secretary!"

Jazmine shrieked at the loud explosion of exploding glass. The thousands of tiny black triangles and squares of glass scattered across the floor after the bottle of champagne flew past Tom's head and into the wall above the kitchen sink. Sarah marched toward Tom, breathing heavily, black splotches of mascara under her eyes, wet with tears. "You take that back!"

"No! I meant every word of it!"

Sarah grabbed another bottle of champagne from the table, holding it above her head. "How dare you talk about that – that brainless bitch in this house?"

Tom ducked and ran away from the table as the bottle was hurled his way, only to hit the wall he hid behind, foaming champagne and bits of glass joining the rest of the mess on the floor and the nearby wall.

Jazmine threw her face down into the table, shrouding it with her folded arms as she wailed into her hand and wrist, unable to deal with no more of the yelling, being called out of one's name and objects being thrown about the room. During the arguing, she found herself sneaking out of the room and into her bedroom, safe and sound, although she could still hear the loud arguing downstairs, the only bright spot being the end of objects used as weapons, at least for now. Lying in her bed, she hugged her pink, smiling, furry rabbit, its floppy ears pushed into her nostrils. Babs's sweet smell always made her feel better. She didn't care that she was nineteen years old and still clutched to her rabbit for dear life like she was ten all over again. All she cared about was returning to that feeling, the feeling she had ten years ago, back when everything was perfect, especially her relationship with Huey.

She sighed. _Oh, Huey, Huey, Huey, I miss you so much_. Huey wouldn't return from school out of state in Atlanta for another week. Five months were a millennium to Jazmine. She dug deep down into her heart, feeling as if her body were floating on water, like a thick piece of driftwood from a boat that was severely damaged, praying that she could somehow end up in Huey's warm, caring arms, wherever he was, safe and sound in his presence, his aura able to comfort her no matter the circumstances. She couldn't wait until he showed up at her door and run into his arms and stare into his emotionless face, one she could tell was happy to see her by the way his eyes would twitch for a few moments, even his lips might form a small smile. Even though she wished he would express his love for her with words, she was completely satisfied by how he did it through his actions: a gift or poem in the mail, some roses on her bed, or even a short visit to say hello. She wanted to laugh at how soft he became over the years as they went through their middle and high school years, but she couldn't, not right now. Her parents did the complete opposite: they became hardened, bitter, due to their sudden habit of drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, what Jazmine felt was too much for them to take, and would make an average alcoholic blush upon learning of her mommy and daddy's habits. Five times, she had to leave and spend a day or two at the Freeman's until things between her mommy and daddy settled down; their outbursts caused by simple, superficial, frivolous things that would make one angry at the other.

But there was another reason why she made an escape to be with Huey, a reason she would live with for the rest of her life. Her bedroom had increased in lightness, the door now open wide, allowing the hallway light to creep in. She whimpered at the footsteps stomping on the carpeted floor. Her chest grew freezing cold, like a bag of ice cubes were shoved down her throat and settled in her lungs and her stomach. The large male figure shrouded in the darkness pounced on top of her, grabbing her by the throat, her skin burning like a tight rope rubbing back and forth on her flesh. Jazmine swung at him, unable to connect with any parts of his body, unable to stop him from unbuttoning her blouse. The sound of the handcuffs and chains rattling as they were thrown on the bed made her want to vomit. She knew what was next to come, for it wasn't the first time this happened to her – it was one of many.

"Please don't do this! Please!" she screamed with all her might. He did not let go. Still holding onto her, she cried, her feet dragging along on the floor as he slammed the door shut. Her voice melted as it became mixed with her sobs. "Please…please…"

Jazmine opened her eyes, now back in the present, her surroundings obstructed by the film of fresh tears that covered every inch of her view, Huey reduced to a large, dark brown, moving blur. She stopped in mid sentence, unable to finish her thoughts. Jazmine jumped when she found herself sucked into Huey's arms and a kiss that found its way on her cheek.

"It's okay," he said. "Take your time."

Jazmine shivered in his hug, the thoughts and feelings of that night making her body act as if she were submerged in the Arctic Ocean. "I can't say who it was," she said. "I can never do that. I'll show you who it was."

She reached into her purse packed full of books, papers and other things she always would remind herself to clean out but never did, and took out her large pocketbook, unable to say the name of the person she wished not to think of in over nine years. Flipping through the plastic slips full of various photos, she finally found one of that man, grimacing at his face in the portrait before she handed it to Huey. She couldn't watch Huey's reaction, one that she knew she would never forget, one that would be etched in her memory forever, lingering around like a horrible curse planted on her.

"Jazmine," he said in a low whisper as he gazed at the five by seven picture held before his eyes between his finger and thumb. "I can't believe…it's impossible."

She turned away, unwilling to see the picture ever again, the picture of her horrible father, one who was once the best daddy she could ever have, but over the years transformed into a shell of his former self, almost as evil as the devil himself once he started drinking – the picture she kept to remind her that she survived as part of Cindy's advice in an effort to return Jazmine to her old self, the one Cindy and Huey knew since they were ten years old. After the multiple times she cut of arms, almost succeeded in drowning herself in her bathtub, tried to jump out of her second story window when she was thirteen but was stopped by an unusually concerned and scared Huey, Cindy had enough of watching her best friend suffering through so much pain that she had her live in her mansion with her parents while Jazmine's mother and father separated for an undetermined amount of time – an aggregate of five long, agonizing years.

Jazmine felt nineteen again. The sirens painted the front of her house red and blue, her father being dragged out the front door by two police officers, one at each side of Tom, and thrown into the back seat of the police car. Cindy ran over to Jazmine, completely covered by a large, red towel around the top of her body like a shawl as she sat in the front lawn. She couldn't believe she found herself dragged into another fight between her parents, but this time, she was in the receiving end from her father as she tried to protect her mother who had to be taken to the hospital for second degree burns to her face and a broken arm.

"I'm so sorry 'bout this, Jazzy," Cindy dropped to her knees and hugged a stone faced Jazmine, her face completely sucked dry of emotion except a single, slow tear that dragged down her cheek, taking its time to slip under her chin. "I know how it is," she said. "My daddy was the same way."

"Daddy…my daddy…" Jazmine moved her mouth to say what was on her mind, completely aware of the tears that fell from her eyes, some of them landing in her mouth. She saw herself gesturing with her open hands as if she were describing what happened in the small fight she and Tom had with great detail, but she couldn't tell if anything was really coming out, or if she was only mouthing her words. Cindy nodded her head as she spoke, so she had to be making some sense. Everything felt like a complete dream, like she would wake up and she would be ten years old again, and it was a Saturday morning, ready to eat some of her mommy's strawberry and butter pancakes. They may have not been the best tasting, but she always loved that her mommy would do her best to feed her family over the years. "I wish I had my old daddy again…"

"Jazzy, stay wit' me 'n my moms, okay?" Cindy asked in a manner that was not really a question but a suggestion or even a command, her voice still rooted in its thick African-American accent, one Jazmine noticed as years went by, became more proper, more assured and full of confidence by the time they graduated high school.

Jazmine looked into Cindy's bright, blue eyes, trying her greatest to ignore the various cops in the background talking on their radios. "You sure your mom won't mind?"

Cindy shook her head. "Naw," she said with an assuring smile, one Jazmine guessed was forced. "Moms's cool. Besides, we need another person in the house to chill with."

Jazmine grinned. "Even someone who still talks to her Babs Bunny rabbit at night?"

Cindy laughed, her breath floating around her mouth like mist that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "It's better than talkin' to imaginary ghosts," she said. "Like my father did before the hospital put him in a mental home."

In a matter of seconds, Jazmine's younger self and Cindy vanished in thin air, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit room, a sign she was back in the present. Huey handed Jazmine the picture of her father. She took it and just as quickly threw it in her purse. Huey raised an eyebrow. "But Jazmine, how is it that I'm the father? Unless…" he looked at her to say what was on his mind, then rubbed his chin. "You mean…?"

Jazmine played around with her bottom lip, chewing it between her teeth, in a way that was undetectable on the outside, looking as if she kept a perfectly straight face. She found herself gazing into Huey's faces, this time with nothing to hide, ready to finally finish telling Huey the absolute truth, the truth that would finally set Jazmine's locked up spirit free. She smiled a little, stifling the laughter she wanted to put out, realizing that bottling up her frustrations, anger, sadness and regret for so long only made her heart as cold as the North Pole.

"Think, Huey," she said. "What month did you find out I was pregnant?"

"April."

"Right," she said. "Now, what month was Zora born?"

"March."

"Right. So, unless somehow Zora was the first baby to take eleven months to fully develop," she said. "I was truly pregnant with Zora two months after I said I was pregnant."

Huey nodded. "So you had a problem with the baby and didn't tell me."

Jazmine sighed. "Miscarriage number two," she said. "But like they say, third time's the charm."

"Guess so," he said. "Zora's truly a miracle baby, in more ways than one."

Jazmine swung her legs over the edge of the bed, humming to herself. "So…what do we do now?"

"You just reminded me of something," Huey stood up, offering his hand to Jazmine. She took it and got up thanks to her husband's help. "I have a present for you."

Jazmine smiled, unable to contain her excitement. "Oh you do?"

"Yeah, but this isn't just an ordinary present," he said. He grabbed a black leather coat for Jazmine off the nearby coat rack by the door and tossed it over to Jazmine who caught it with her excellent reflexes. "This is one we have to visit."

"What do you mean?"

"Look in the jacket pocket."

Jazmine eyed Huey, looking to see if he would burst into an uncharacteristic fit of laughter or if he was serious. A sudden flash in his eye let Jazmine know just that – he was serious. She put on the jacket, anxious to stuff her hand in the right pocket, much heavier than the other. She pulled out a tan envelope and tore it open, too excited to spend an extra few seconds to delicately tear the flap open. Jazmine gasped at the elaborate certificate, its flower and star patterned border, her name written in fancy handwriting in the center and a large stamp of approval toward the bottom. What made her so happy the most was the reason for the certificate: the name of the club Huey secretly had her join.

"Oh my God. It's a certificate for the Maryland Horse Club Association!"

Huey nodded with a hint of a smile. "Not just that, it also means you have prepaid lessons and more that comes with it," he said. "You forgot to take a look at the picture in the envelope."

Jazmine stuck her hand into the envelope and pulled out the five by seven picture of a polar bear white horse in mid gallop behind a white fence. She almost fainted at how beautiful the horse was. It almost looked like the pony she wished she could own when she was a little girl, except it wasn't pink, of course. "Huey…are you serious? You mean he or she is…?"

"Yes," he said. "That's yours. She is, I mean."

Jazmine didn't care she was crushing Huey in her embrace, dropping her certificate and picture on the floor. The only thing running through her mind was how lucky and blessed she was to have a husband who was not only patient and willing to listen to her, stay with her through the good and the bad times, but also provide a gift, even when it was not her birthday, Valentine's Day, Christmas, or their anniversary.

"Huey," she looked up at him, staring deep in his eyes. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he said. "Now, let's go and see your present."

After he picked up Jazmine's certificate and picture off the floor, they headed downstairs and out the front door with Cindy and Zora to head to the barn where Jazmine's gift waited for her, a gift she would never…ever…forget.

**. . .**

**The End.**

**Note: **I'd really like to thank everyone who took time out of their schedule to read andreviewed this story. I know it took longer than I originally planned to finish, but I had to make a few necessary changes and make sure it came out right. Thanks again.


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